Egghunts & Easterbunnies
by Llmav
Summary: Austin and Ally celebrate Easter.


**A/N; HAPPY EASTER! And if you don't celebrate Easter, happy Sunday. **

**I had a hard time coming up with a plot for this one as all I could think of was eggs and Ross/Austin bald like one. And that's was not very inspiring.**

**At** **all**.

**But then again, who needs plot when there's smut. **

**Thanks to the lovely Victoria for helping me out with some ideas. **

He sighed heavily as he was standing inside the small, warm room, the laughter from the large group of children situated on the grass outside pouring in through the cracked-open window.

He could hear her laugh intermixing with the children's, and his bad mood was momentarily subdued.

Ally Dawson's laughter was cotton candy; soft, sweet and too addictive.

Just like her.

The two of them had been neighbors since birth, friends since his second birthday, when they had, as their parents would tell them, shared the last slice of cake. They had been glued to the hip since 3, classmates since 5, and forever marked by each other since age 7, when they somehow managed to run into each other while riding bikes, resulting in by now almost unnoticeable, matching scars under each of their chins.

He had kissed her for the first time when they were 12, a consequence of an improvised game of spin the bottle in her attic with Trish and Dez, where she had desperately rigged the game as she didn't want to kiss Dez. He hadn't found it in himself to be upset about the fact that she had only kissed him to get away from kissing someone else, because in the end, he had been allowed to taste her lips.

It was almost as if she had scarred his lips instead of his chin, because although he had experienced a few other lips since then, nothing compared. No one.

The first cut apparently was the deepest. Her kiss had scarred him, alright.

And now, at 17, they had shared a few more kisses, and a couple of them may have led to a few semi-heated make-out sessions, where his hands may or may not have traveled briefly under her shirt, all of them under the pretenses of "games'.

At this point he wanted to taste a lot more than her lips.

Or perhaps just another set of her lips.

People at school and around the neighborhood knew them as a pair rather than individuals. A group deal. 2 for 1.

They bickered often, argued seldom. They had this mutual, intuitive relationship, and in almost all situations, he knew what she was thinking often before she did. And even more so, the other way around.

They were Austin and Ally, the sun and the moon, peanut butter and jelly, two puzzle pieces, possibly with different motifs, but connecting perfectly together.

He really, really wanted to connect some of his pieces with hers.

Well, really just one.

But he hadn't.

Ever.

Never.

Throughout the years, they had both periodically dated other people.

Maybe God knew why, because he sure as hell didn't.

Sometimes he thought that perhaps she viewed him as a brother. They were very close.

It's just, he was so ridiculously attracted to her that he could never look at her like family.

If you asked him how long he had _loved_ her, he wouldn't be able to tell you. He simply couldn't remember a time when he hadn't.

He had been insanely, irrevocably _in_ love with her ever since he realized that girls didn't drool but rather, were drool worthy. Well, she was, at least. He could and did spend hours thinking of her legs, her ass, wondering what the skin on her neck would taste like, not being able to imagine anything that would taste better, with the result of him drooling excessively, and more often than not while out in public places.

He would do anything for her, and in all circumstances involving her, 'no' was simply not a viable answer.

And that's exactly why he had, against all forms of reason and despite the loud voice inside of his head screaming NO, agreed to participate in the event that she was organizing for the local charity where she was volunteering.

When he had heard that love could make you do stupid things, he had never pictured it translating into him wearing a ridiculous looking bunny costume in front of what seemed like hundreds of eager children.

...

"Please, pretty pretty _please_, Austin, I _really_ need you to help me out with this."

Crap. She was _begging_. He had a difficult time as it was resisting her, but when she was in a pouting mood if was downright impossible.

They were at her house, hanging out in her room as they often did, him stretched out on her bed while she was seated on her shaggy carpet, criss-cross, Indian style, the cutest Indian he could ever imagine.

"Why don't you ask Trish?"

"Because she's about as tall as the kids. And as reliable as a watch without batteries."

He grunted. "Dez?"

"Austin, Dez _is_ a kid." She looked at him with an almost scolding expression on her too adorable face.

A sound of exasperation escaped his mouth. He knew she was right.

"Ally, I want to help you, I _really_ do, and I'll be there, but I really don't want to dress up as the Easter bunny."

She pouted again. Big, brown eyes. Sad facial expression.

"It's for the _kids_, Austin."

More disgruntled noise.

"Come on, youre a _good_ guy."

"I know, but I will look ridiculous. Isn't there anything else I can do to help?"

"Nope." She was shaking her head to emphasize her point.

"Aahhhhhhh, come on." He started to sound annoyed, mostly because he knew he was going to give in. Like he always did.

She smiled, almost secretively, as if she just thought of something.

She rose and walked over towards him.

"What if I give you a carrot?" Her eyes reflected some mischievous thought that he would pay good money, much more than a penny, to reveal.

"A carrot? You know I don't like vegetables." He was shaking his head.

She sighed. "A figurative carrot, dumbass. Like, something to motivate you."

"Like what?" he was still smiling at her attempt of an insult. She had a penchant for puns, bad ones, but she was terrible at insults. Mostly because she was too nice to be mean.

"If you dress up, I'll dress up. And afterwards, we can come back here and watch a movie of your choice. I'll even feed you. You name it. Whatever you want."

She looked exited and his resistance wavered instantaneously.

"You will dress up too? You promise?"

"I pinky promise. I _will_ dress up as a bunny." She was smiling and he got the feeling that she was hiding something as he hooked his pinky finger with hers.

The promise might as well be sealed in blood.

...

And then there he was, on the day before Easter, cramped up into a small storage room in the local recreational center. It was hot outside, as Miami in the spring time tended to be, and it seemed like the city was trying to save money by not utilizing the air conditioning.

Just fucking great.

He was yet to see her, as one of the other volunteers had ushered him into the small room to change as soon as he arrived, and he suddenly got the urge to look for her.

He exited the room, dressed in the full body part of the fury costume, peeking out through the close-by glass entrance doors, and he spotted her.

She was crouched down, speaking to a little girl in a pretty dress that seemed to be crying uncontrollably. Ally was in shorts, yellow ones, fittingly so for the occasion. They were not terribly short, but still revealing enough leg for him to sweat even more.

She was pretty, so pretty. Too pretty.

And he quickly realized that she was clearly costume free.

She looked up, her eyes meeting his and she smiled as she walked over towards the building, opening the doors and quickly pushing him back towards the too small room.

"Put the head on before you scare the pants off of these poor kids."

He wanted to scare _her_ pants off. Or just rip them off. Whatever.

She handed him the bunny head that had been propped up on top of the small table.

He suddenly wished that she would give him a very _different_ type of head.

"Where is your costume? Why aren't you wearing one?"

She shrugged and smiled, almost secretively. "The day isn't over yet".

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

And then she kissed him on the cheek, although he felt like she had kissed him elsewhere, as blood was rushing both to his cheeks as well as somewhere _completely_ different.

Luckily, he was wearing a big, thick, non-revealing costume or he would have been the scariest Easter bunny ever.

She turned around and walked back out to the awaiting crowd of sugar-craving kids.

He sighed loudly as he put the Easter bunny head on and followed in her foot steps.

...

Two hours later, and she was still costume free.

He was not.

He had taken what felt like hundreds of pictures. Entertained countless kids, some of them happy and some of them scared to the point of nightmares.

Given out thousands of Easter eggs.

And he had been lusting after her.

But that was a given.

She walked up to him.

"Austin?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you so much for doing this." And she hugged him, her petite arms barely reaching around the front of his much bigger frame.

He shrugged. "No problem." He still sounded grumpy. Good.

"No, really. I'm so _eggcited_ that you're here."

She laughed at her own joke.

He did not.

"Austin?"

He didn't bother answering this time around.

"You look _eggstrordinary_ in that costume."

She was so annoying. And cute.

"Austin?"

He just shook his head, the long bunny ears flapping against his head.

"Do you mind if we take a few _eggstra_ pictures?"

More cotton candy.

And he wasn't thinking about the sticky substance that one of the kids had somehow managed to smear all over his fury leg.

She was such a dork. But hot.

A nerd. But adorable.

He was mad, furious that she apparently had broken her costume promise, but there was no question about it; he loved her nonetheless.

An hour later, and all the eggs had been found, all the pictures had been taken, the children's sugar high had turned into hyperactivity mixed with unavoidable tiredness, and it was clearly time for him to leave.

He walked out of the center after having changed out of the uncomfortable costume, and she was waiting for him, casually leaning her back up against the too cluttered announcement board.

"Are you still coming over to my place?" She was smiling that secretive, enticing smile again.

"I'm not talking to you. You promised. Pinky promised. That's like, the ultimate promise."

"I know. And I _am_ sorry. But come home with me. _Please_."

And he nodded. Because he couldn't say no to her.

"Fine. But only because you promised food, and I am starving. I'm _not_ going to talk to you."

She smiled because she knew his anger was wavering.

They drove the short distance to her house in silence, him still moping.

It seemed that she knew him well enough to let him.

...

They walked into her house, immediately met by uncharacteristic quietness.

His curiosity killed the silence. "Where are your parents?"

She smiled. "So you're talking to me again?"

He nodded, defeatedly. Who was he kidding, anyways?

"Out. They'll be back late tonight, or possibly tomorrow morning."

They walked upstairs, into her room, and she walked over towards her dresser, rummaging through the large top drawer for a minute before she apparently found what she was looking for.

He threw himself down on her bed, as he usually did, casually turning on the TV, not paying attention to her as he was flipping through the channels in search for a movie that he would want to watch.

"So, what are we eating?" He _was_ starving.

"Whatever you want."

Something in her voice made him tear his eyes off of the small screen, and once they landed on her he couldn't turn away as her appearance was glued to his irises.

She had removed her shirt, and his mouth fell open as she slowly unbuttoned and stepped out of the teasing, yellow shorts, nonchalantly kicking them towards her laundry bin.

"What...what are you doing?" He was swallowing hard. Gulping, even.

What the hedgehog was she wearing?

She didn't answer as she positioned something on top of her head.

It took him a minute to process what it was.

Bunny ears.

Ok, she was definitely not a hedgehog.

She was a bunny. A fucking Easter bunny. And coincidentally, an Easter bunny that he desperately wanted to fuck.

She was wearing a lacy, black corset, accentuating her curves in mind-blowing perfection and her boobs seemed to be spilling out of the top.

Funny how his hunger had magically disappeared, as the only thing he currently had an appetite for was her.

She twirled, revealing a little ridiculous pompom at the back of her matching black thongs. Ridiculously enticing, that is. He wanted to remove it with his teeth.

She looked nothing like the Easter bunny. More like a bunny from one of the magazines that he knew his dad was unsuccessfully attempting to hide in the underwear drawer.

But better.

_So_ much better.

He hadn't spoken. Because he couldn't. His mind was racing, and somehow his head and his mouth were momentarily disconnected.

He hadn't moved. Because he couldn't. Because he was hard as fuck.

In the spirit of the forthcoming holiday, he was paying homage to Jesus, indeed, as he, too, had clearly risen.

Could she tell?

"Im dressing up as i promised. Do you like it?" She sounded seductive and shy all in one, as she slowly approached the bed that he was still laying down on, now half-way propped up on his elbows.

He nodded as if on ultra-rapid, and the sound that he uttered sounded something like jibberish mixed with the noises he could only presume one would make when drowning.

Yes. It meant yes.

Come to think of it, _like_ was probably an understatement. He wanted to rip it off her body in appreciation.

He was eternally grateful that she had decided against wearing her costume in public. He didn't want anyone else to see her like this. That, and he would have ultimately fucked her in front of all those kids. And that would have undoubtedly been the scariest Easter bunny ever.

She climbed onto the bed, hesitating for a few seconds before straddling him and any doubt he may have had in regards to her noticing his, erm, hardness, were thoroughly erased. She didn't seem to mind.

He almost died. Still alive but barely breathing.

"I have an Easter egg for _you_."

She was shaking it before handing it over to him.

A small oval of pastel colored orange plastic. His favorite color. Innocent. Cute. Childish.

With a content of anything but.

He opened it and something fell out.

A condom.

She answers his questioning facial expression with a low whisper in his ear.

"Austin, I...I want you to be my first".

He wasn't sure whether he was hearing things.

"I...I thought...never mind."

"You thought I slept with Gavin. Because you heard the rumors that he spread. And you didn't see it necessary to check with me before you decided that they were true". She looked kind of sad.

"I mean...it was not my business."

"Not your business? So you wouldn't have cared if those rumors were true?"

She looked at him and he didn't really know how to explain to her that those rumors had almost literally killed him. And that he had almost literally killed Gavin. Several times.

"Do you really think I would...I mean, I always...I can't even imagine doing...that...with anyone else." She sounded upset.

He finally found his voice again. "But you imagine doing it with me?" The surprise was clearly evident in his shaky voice.

"All the time."

Fuck. He was speechless yet again.

Her confidence seemed to waiver a little upon his lack of speaking.

"I know you have more...experience. So if you don't want to, I mean, I get it, I understand...", and she started to move of of him, her cheeks the color of blood.

He grabbed her, pulling her back on top of him, holding her head still, one of his hands positioned on each of her burning cheeks, as his eyes drilled into hers mere centimeters away.

"Ally, you can never undo it, never take it back. I mean, I think your first time should be with someone that you're crazy about, in love with."

"You don't get it". She still sounded sad, and he could tell that small tears were starting to form in her eyes.

"What? What don't I understand?"

"That that's _exactly_ what I'm trying to do here. I want my first time to be with someone I'm crazy about. That's why I want it to be with you...but if you don't want to, I..."

He interrupted her. "You're crazy about me?"

She nodded.

"Ally, I...you have no idea how much I want that, want _you_. I...you...I want you to be my first, too."

She looked surprised. "You don't have to say that, I mean, I know you dated Brooke, she's not exactly known for being...difficult."

"Ally, I...I never...I have never slept with anyone else, either. Ever."

Yes, there had been some...opportunities. But no, he hadn't slept with Brooke.

Nor anyone else.

She looked like she didn't believe him.

"It's true...I meant what I just said. I think your first time should be with someone you love, so I've kind of been waiting for you. I mean, I didn't think I stood a chance, but I was hoping, I mean, maybe more fantasizing..."

"You've been fantasizing about me?"

"Ally, _you're_ my _only_ fantasy."

Her seductive smile returned. "What was I wearing?"

"What?"

"In your fantasies, what was I wearing?"

"...nothing..." Now he was the one blushing.

She slowly slid down the shoulder band of the lace corset, running her finger along her skin as her hips rolled slowly into his body.

He gulped.

And then there was no more talking.

The first kiss was hard, rushed as he pulled her down flat on to of him, his lips eagerly searching hers and the sound of their lips sloppily moving together filling the room.

No more juvenile games.

He rolled them around, and suddenly she was laying on her back on the bed, him hovering above her while he was unhooking the front of her lace corset. It was slightly trickier than he had envisioned, but soon enough his work was rewarded by her naked breasts in front of him. He instinctively leaned down to suck on her nipple and she let out a sound that reminded him of a fucking musical masterpiece, her hand tightly intertwined with his hair.

He almost didn't notice when she unbuttoned his pants, rubbing up against his dick in ways that drove him out of his mind, before his boxers joined the rest of the clothes on the floor.

They were naked. Together. In her bed.

Holy hell.

His hands were traveling all over her body, exploring every little corner before reaching their between-her-legs destination. He rubbed her in small circles, experimentally, slowly, feeling her body respond to every movement and relishing in the noises that she made.

She whimpered when he hesitantly slid one of his fingers in between her folds. Shit, she was wet. _He_ had made her wet. All of a sudden he couldn't recall any other purpose that he may have had in life. All he knew was that he could die a happy soon-to-be man.

Not that he wanted to die. She _was_ killing him, though.

His mouth began exploring her body, following in the path of his fingers, licking her skin, starting at her neck, her chest, her stomach, the inside of her legs...

He had been wrong. The taste of her neck _was_ amazing, tantalizing, but the taste of the inside of her thighs were a fucking delicacy.

He could feel his breathing speeding up, his heart beating almost irregularly and he swallowed hard.

His dreams were coming through and he was scared shitless, not because he had any doubt that it would greatly exceed his narrowly themed fantasies, he knew it would, but because he desperately wanted her dreams to cum true, as well.

He stuck out his tongue and tasted her pussy, not hesitantly but tryingly, unsure of whether he was doing it right.

But then she moaned.

Loudly.

He had just made Ally Dawson moan.

With his tongue.

And it had been about four thousand times more incredible than he could have ever imagined. And he wanted to make that happen again.

So he did.

Her taste made his cock twitch uncontrollably against her bed sheet, all his senses flooded with her as he began licking her into bliss, one wet stroke at a time until she came undone, her body earthquaking above him, shaking in pleasurable ripples, and simultaneously and undeniably shaking up his world.

His mind was blank.

She moved, still panting, pushing him down on his back. "Your turn".

Her small hand encircled his cock and she stroked him a few times. He was amazed at the reactions such a simple movement could elicit in hand on his dick made his whole body, perhaps minus the thinking part of his brain, come alive.

_She_ was touching him, and the mere thought of that almost made him cum on the spot.

She returned the favor, exploring his body with her tongue until she reached her goal, slowly licking the head of his dick before sliding part of it into her mouth, letting her wet tongue circle it a few times, tasting him.

What was that noise? Oh, just him almost already blowing his load into her mouth.

No, no, no.

He had waited so long for this.

One minute of amazing tongue strokes and sucking later, he unwillingly pulled her away. He had to, or it would have been over.

She seemed to understand because she smiled as she reached for the condom.

He swallowed hard.

This was it.

"Ally, Im...Im nervous. I really, _really_ don't want to hurt you."

"You won't." She smiled.

"How do you know?"

"Because you're you. You're _Austin_. You would _never_ hurt me."

Her confidence rubbed off on him, and he unwrapped the condom, soon positioning himself on top of her, slowly kissing her as he entered her.

Four eyes, two sets of chocolate, melting into each other as two became one.

He could tell that it hurt her, and that hurt him. His heaven was only a heaven if his angel was smiling. And she wasn't.

"Do you...do you want me to stop?"

Shit. He wasn't entirely confident that he could.

"Don't you dare. Don't you _dare_ stop. I want this. More than I think I have ever wanted anything before. It hurts a little, but it also feels _so_ good."

She gasped and her nails scratched his back as he fulfilled her wish by filling her, slowly pushing himself all the way in.

Her tightness was all-consuming, her wetness his ticket to the mental hospital.

A few thrusts. Carefully. Restrained. Breatholdingly. Slow. And yeah, _amazing_. It was so damn intimate, he _hadn't_ been able to picture it in his wildest fantasies, and shit, he had had plenty of wild fantasies about her.

Her teeth were digging into her lower lip, her nails were digging into his lower back and it hurt but it felt good, so fucking good and he understood what she had meant earlier.

Pleasurable pain. Slowly but surely turning into pure bliss.

His head was buried in her neck, her heart beating fast against his chest, her wetness increasing with each thrust and the expression on her face transforming from one of uneasiness to one of ecstasy.

He sped up, gradually, realizing that he had forgotten to remove her bunny ears, as they were moving in rhythm to his now barely contained thrusts.

She was not just the sexiest bunny he had ever seen, she was the sexiest _anything_ he had ever seen.

His mouth didn't leave hers as they began going at it like rabbits, or maybe more fittingly, bunnies, he really wasn't sure and didn't care. He was inside of life was complete.

He had to work hard to keep it together, wanting it to last for at least a few minutes.

She was screaming, louder and louder, as his teeth were digging into the skin of her neck in a futile attempt at controlling himself and he almost lost it completely when he felt her starting to contract around him.

She wasn't about to cum, was she? He couldn't think of anything he rather would have happen, but this was their first time and he really didn't know what he was doing, acting on instinct rather than experience.

And then she _did _cum, screamingly, pulling on his hair in handfuls and he finally let go, exploding into her in uncoordinated, hard thrusts while experiencing the outermost pleasure that he had ever been treated to in his 17 years of life while yelling something that might have made sense in _some_ language.

Poof.

Mind blown.

Sex was definitely _not_ overrated.

Or maybe it was just sex with Ally that was mind-blowing.

How was he supposed to function, do other things with his life, now when he knew what she felt like from the inside?

He would never be able to look at an Easter bunny the same way again, that was for sure.

She stood up, soon getting dressed, a blush painted on her cheeks.

He followed her lead, unsure of what else to do.

"So, do you want something to drink or eat or something?" She was nervous, he could tell.

"Ally, _all_ I want is you."

She smiled shyly, all traces of her uncharacteristic seductiveness long gone.

"I'm all yours."

And as he approached her and kissed her again, because he could, he realized that Jesus's resurrection wasn't the _only_ Easter miracle, because he had _finally_ turned mission _impossible_ into mission _completed_.

Ally Dawson was his at last.


End file.
